


The Poem

by bitterblackrabbit



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Play, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, M/M, Powerplay, References to Canon, SebaCiel - Freeform, alternative universe, little powerbottom ciel, powerbottoms unite
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-09-07 13:25:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8802571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitterblackrabbit/pseuds/bitterblackrabbit
Summary: Sebastian Michaelis was nothing more than a poorly paid poet - that was until the son of the Phantomhive family took interest in him and offered Sebastian the job as the head butler of their household. Everything seemed perfect; finally being financially stable, working for the most prestigious family in England.
  However, all may not be as it seems as the young earl had other darker intentions for his new butler ...





	1. That Butler, Returning

**Author's Note:**

> ♡~A huge thanks to [irllax ](http://archiveofourown.org/users/irllax/pseuds/irllax) for being my beta and correcting my silly mistakes, as well as inspiring me to write this and keeping me motivated through it all~♡
> 
>  
> 
> [bitterblackrabbit.tumblr.com ](http://bitterblackrabbit.tumblr.com)  
> 

  


‘’How would you like your coffee, sir?’’

‘’Pitch black, please.’’ 

Sebastian Michaelis had just left for work, waiting for his usual morning coffee which was the only thing that managed to keep his spirits up on a stressful day. Outside the clouds were grey, insinuating the distinctive, english rain that was about to descend from the sky while the northern wind did nothing but mess up his raven black hair. He could hear the honking from the cars that were trapped in endless traffic queues, drivers screaming at each other, people chatting about heartbreaks and how tiring their work was; the usual boring, daily life chatter which made a busy man like himself sigh with disappointment. 

_ The world is nothing but a stressful maze of misfortunes. _

The scent of coffee tickled his nostrils as he caught himself lost in thought while staring out of the window of the little coffee shop. He finally grabbed his coffee and wrapped his scarf around his neck, leaving the café as he prepared himself for yet another exhausting day as the head butler of the most noble family in England. 

_ The Phantomhives.  _

 

‘’Oh ! Mr. Michaelis, just in time !’’ Rachel Phantomhive minced down the stairs, her deep blue eyes sparkling with joy as soon as Sebastian stepped through the door, gesturing for the older butler, Mr. Tanaka, to take care of his luggage. Rachel brushed off her lavender mermaid shaped dress, a small, wavy part of her ash brown hair resting on her naked shoulder, as her pale, slender hands reached for the sterling silver rose on top of her head to make sure it stayed in place. 

‘’I do hope you enjoyed your holidays,’’ Rachel said, being as kind as always. ‘’Vincent has been so busy with the Funtom Corporation so I’m afraid he’s a bit occupied at the moment. However, he wanted to talk to you as soon as you returned. I’ll make sure to ring the bell when he’s available, hm?’’ 

The Funtom Corporation had been the family’s very own business for several years. A business which produced and designed candy as well as toys, for children around the United Kingdom. The past few months, the company had grown into such significance, that it allowed for the goods to be sold all over Europe. And the Earl of Phantomhive had already stated, that he was sure of the fact that it wouldn’t take more than yet another few months for it to reach out to the rest of the world. Not only was he determined enough to make that ambition a reality, the family was also under the support of Queen Elizabeth II herself. 

‘’I would very much appreciate that. Thank you, Mistress.’’ Sebastian swung his trench-coat over his right forearm and scarf as he managed a smile. ‘’I presume my first task would be to prepare a cup of tea for the Young Master?’’

The Lady of Phantomhive was just about to answer until a young, familiar voice echoed through the foyer of the mansion, making the hairs stand up straight on the butler’s deathly pale skin. 

‘’No need to,  _ Sebastian _ , Tanaka already provided me with the most exquisite cup of Earl Grey, thank you very much.’’ 

_ Ciel _ .

The son of the Earl of Phantomhive was nothing but an impudent little brat whom Sebastian couldn’t help but care a bit too much for. The young master had taken him in when he was nothing but a poorly paid poet, who had to realise he couldn’t make a living of writing. Ciel, despite all of this, had made him the head butler with the approval of his kind parents, and although he may not have treated Sebastian with respect at all times - Sebastian knew the little boy was bound to him somehow; that he wouldn’t be able to live without him by his side. 

He watched every move, every step the young master took as he lumbered down the stairs of the foyer. He was dressed in a white dress shirt, black cotton-twill chinos, suspenders and a black silk ribbon tied around his neck; all while he playfully ran his fingers down the mahogany handrail with a huge smirk planted on his face. 

‘’Ciel Phantomhive, where  _ are _ \-  _ your  _ \-  _ manners _ ? I specifically told you  _ not _ to address your butler by his first name.’’ Rachel sighed, immediately walking over to brush the shoulders off her son’s shirt. ‘’Now, apologise to Mr. Michaelis for your behaviour and return to your piano practise. I didn’t hear you master that last part of Clair de Lune yet.’’

Ciel’s gaze fixed on Sebastian. Those big, cerulean blue eyes, which were now filled with nothing but pure hatred, met his own crimson red ones, as the little boy stepped forward and faced the tall butler. 

He crossed his arms with a grumpy look on his face and looked down as he mumbled displeased. ‘’I’m sorry.’’

Sebastian leaned down, raising Ciel’s chin as he pursed his lips into a wide smirk.

‘’Apology accepted, little one.’’

Ciel couldn’t take his eyes off the butler. Taking a step closer to Sebastian, the young master felt his heart beating more rapidly with every second that passed, while the two of them gazed into each other’s eyes for what seemed like an eternity. His palms started to sweat, and his eyes trailed down to the sight of that devilish smirk.  _ Those lips _ . A thousand thoughts ran through his head as Sebastian’s fingers slipped into Ciel’s pocket. 

‘’Now, that wasn’t so difficult, was it?’’ Rachel’s voice broke the tension between them, making Ciel take a step back in surprise as he raised an eyebrow at Sebastian. 

‘’Enjoy your piano practise, young master,’’ Sebastian smiled innocently. ‘’I’ll meet you in the drawing room for your lesson afterwards.’’ 

And with that, curious of what Sebastian had slipped into his pocket, Ciel had no choice but to return to his practise, with a feeling of confusion, intrigue and solace as his lips pursed into a slight smile. 

_ His butler had finally returned. _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit short due to the fact that I originally planned this to be a Prologue to the story. Sorry about that. But - The next chapter is a lot longer and a bit more Sebaciel, I promise. Enjoy !


	2. That Butler, Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ''Ciel leaned forward, resting his chin on his hands as he looked into Sebastian’s eyes. The boy wanted something; he wanted answers and he wanted information. Sebastian could recognise that look of curiosity and fascination anywhere. He wasn’t complaining, however. The young boy’s interest in him intrigued him to his very core.  
>  _You sound like a pervert, Michaelis._ ''

 

 

Ciel remembered it clearly.

 

It had been one of those rare, sunny days in London. One of those where the temperature was warm enough for the young boy to go for a walk without any big coats or boots on to keep himself warm. He’d simply just slipped on one of his favourite cashmere jumpers in a light beige, and for once, he'd went outside for a walk with his dog.

The trees were swaying to the rhythm of the wind, the warm summer breeze playing with the strands of his slate grey hair. His route consisted of walking down Kensington High Street, passing Royal Albert Hall on his way, making a right turn to enter Kensington Gardens right by the Albert Memorial, where he loosened the blue leather leash on his dog, as he let him run forward.

Nothing was more relaxing, than finally getting an hour or two away from his stressful life as a son of the Earl of Phantomhive himself. Although the boy never said it out loud, he sometimes liked to pretend, that he was just like any other fifteen-year-old; going for a walk in the park with his dog, and that he didn’t have to return to a manor full of royal duties with business deals and secret arrangements on behalf of the Queen, as well as something as isolating as being homeschooled.

The Phantomhive boy and his black borzoi dog finally reached Kensington Palace, right by the statue of Queen Victoria. With the leash tied around his wrist, Ciel put his hands in his pockets and admired the statue.

He remembered the time his father had taken him to the park, telling him about the details of the statue; how it was carved in the finest of marble, portraying Queen Victoria of England back in 1837, no younger than eighteen, dressed in her coronation robes.

The sun shone brightly in the almost cloudless sky, outlining every single curve, every single detail on the fine marble statue.  Ciel was lost in thought, right until he heard a familiar bark, and the leash pulled his wrist out of his pocket. The boy stumbled to the side, grabbed the leash tightly and regained his balance as finally looked up.

‘’Oi, Sebastian ! Stop that !’’

Ciel’s dog had managed to run in circles around a man who’d been standing beside him, tying the leash around the man’s legs and made him struggle to keep his balance while the dog kept barking at him. Ciel quickly managed to silence the dog with his command, ordering it to stay put as he released the man from his now restrained legs.

‘’Do excuse my dog, he’s--’’

Ciel swallowed. Only just now had he gotten a chance to have a proper look at the victim of his dog’s humiliating behaviour; and what he saw made his pupils widen with pure intrigue.

Raven black hair framing a beautiful, pale face with the most handsome bone structure, and a pair of enthralling, crimson red eyes. The man was at least twenty inches taller than himself, dressed in a black tweed suit, his slender hands clutching two books to his chest.

The man eyed the dog with an annoyed look in his eyes, immediately filling Ciel with guilt and shame. Yet his heart skipped a beat as soon as those crimson red eyes met his own cerulean blue, and they gazed into each other’s eyes in silence for a short while.

‘’How did you know my name?’’ the man finally asked, breaking the silence between the two of them.

‘’Your _name_? What on earth are you talking about?’’

Ciel’s eyes caught a glimpse of a few of the golden letters carved into the leather-bound that the man was holding in his arms.

‘’The collected poetry of --’’ Ciel read aloud, hesitating for a short moment as he met the man’s eyes once more. ‘’ _Sebastian Michaelis._ ’’

Ever since Ciel’s professor in English literature had noticed his fondness of old poems by Edgar Allan Poe as well as Shakespeare, he had ended up recommending the exact book the tall man was clutching to his chest in that moment. The poems were filled with melancholy and sadness, as well as a romance described in the most hurtful, yet alluring way. Not to mention the erotic symbolism that sneaked its way between the lines. However, Ciel didn’t mind. The author’s way with words had intrigued him from the very first verse, and he had managed to read the whole collection just before sundown that very same day.

‘’You’re Sebastian Michaelis,’’ Ciel blurted out. ‘’I’ve read that book of yours a thousand times.’’

The annoyance in Sebastian Michaelis’ eyes disappeared within seconds, and instead turned into a flattered expression which made his lips purse into the most intriguing smile.

Sebastian had never been told such words in his twenty-seven-year-old long hell of a life. Never had his work been appreciated like that before; _especially_ not from a young boy like Ciel himself. His poems weren’t even meant for someone that young. He had expected mature grown-ups, with a fondness for melancholic romance, to be able to enjoy it. The last few months of his life had been wasted on being denied by several publishers, as his motivation for writing slowly died out day by day. He now went for long walks in Kensington Gardens in the hopes of finding a new muse, something that would inspire him to keep his writing alive, yet nothing had seemed to work.

‘’I’m honoured to hear that,’’ Sebastian finally managed to say.

‘’Tch,’’ Ciel smiled playfully. ‘’Don’t tell me you aren’t used to hearing such comments?’’

Before Sebastian had a chance to answer, the black borzoi dog started to get impatient and barked as if he was telling Ciel he wanted to return to the manor. Ciel looked at the sky, noticing a huge, dark grey cloud moving closer, the scent of rain filling the afternoon air.

‘’Pardon me, I better return before it starts to rain buckets,’’ Ciel hastily added and smiled bashfully. ‘’It was an honour to meet you, Mr. Michaelis. I hope to see you again soon.’’

And with that, the boy was gone.

Sebastian had returned to the park every day since he met the Phantomhive boy. Even though it rained most of the time, he forced himself to go outside and walk through the park, waiting by the marble statue of Queen of Victoria, a part of him hoping the boy would return. Days passed, and once again, the poor poet was about to lose hope, until he one day found himself staring so intensely at the statue, while he was completely lost in thought, that he didn’t even realise the little boy had been standing beside him in silence, admiring the statue in pure amusement.

The tall poet turned to look at the boy.

‘’It really is a masterpiece, isn’t it?’’ the boy asked, without even looking at Sebastian.

He admired the boy. This time, he’d left the dog at home. His hands were buried in the pockets of his rolled up chinos, only slightly showing those slender wrists that were somewhat hidden by the long sleeves of his knitted navy pullover. The bangs of his slate grey hair were a tiny bit too long, vaguely covering those big and curious cerulean eyes, which were fixed on the statue in front of them. Never had he met such a young person, who seemed so mature in both appearance and personality altogether, yet he still managed to stay so petite and graceful.

The boy reached out a slender, pale hand. ‘’Ciel Phantomhive,’’ Ciel said and smiled. ‘’I don’t recall introducing myself properly.’’

The tall poet shook the little boy’s hand, a kind smile now planted on his face. It was out of pure politeness that Sebastian hadn’t commented on the fact, that he’d already known who the boy was. Hell, the Phantomhive boy was on the front page of every newspaper lately, due to the expansion of their family’s company. He remembered reading an article, a month or two before the day of their meeting; the article had spoken of the boy’s father, Earl Vincent Phantomhive - and Ciel himself - being no older than fifteen,  and that they had both been awarded honours from the Queen.

_Special boy, indeed._

‘’How about we go for a cup of tea? There’s a tiny shop close to where I live,’’ Ciel suggested, slowly starting to walk backwards, almost as if he knew the poet was going to say accept his offer.

The Phantomhive boy chuckled at the poet’s silence. ‘’I presume you writers prefer coffee over tea?’’

Ciel turned around and started walking towards the exit of the park, Sebastian now finally collecting his wits, starting to follow the Phantomhive boy, as he was intrigued by his confidence, his maturity, and the way he was able to read Sebastian without him letting a single word escape his lips.

They walked in silence, Ciel seeming to know exactly where to go. His hands were still buried in his pockets as he walked. There was something about him that Sebastian couldn’t quite figure out. Something about the young Phantomhive boy still seemed like a mystery to him. Usually, it was usually anything but difficult to form an outline of the personality of a person he’d just encountered; however, _this_ boy seemed to behold a thousand secrets within those deep, cerulean eyes of his. Secrets, which Sebastian had trouble figuring out. And not only that, it confused him to his very core, that he’d given up trying to make sense of him. He’d only just met the boy; it hadn’t even been certain he’d ever get to see him again. Yet, here he was, in the heels of a fifteen-year-old son of an Earl, on his way to have a cup of coffee with him.

‘’Here we are,’’ Ciel said, standing right in front of the entrance of the sophisticated café and restaurant, _The Ivy Kensington Brasserie_.

Ciel was just about to push the door open, until Sebastian sneaked an arm past Ciel and hastily reached out for it instead, pushing it open while standing right behind the boy. Sebastian pursed his lips into a kind smile, as he gestured for Ciel to walk inside. The Phantomhive boy seemed to smirk as he stepped inside the fancy restaurant, Sebastian raising an eyebrow in pure amusement, as he closed the door behind them.

The scent of coffee, tea, breakfast and cake altogether at once filled him up with pure delight.

He looked around. Huge, beige curtains, round lamps hanging from the ceiling with golden details, as well as small, round tables all around the room, black leather sofas and an extravagant bar at the end. A waitress carefully walked in between the filled seats and tables, approaching the two young men with a huge, gentle smile planted on her face.

‘’Good afternoon, gentlemen,’’ she said kindly. ‘’A table for two, I presume?’’

‘’Yes, please,’’ Ciel said, a trace of a smile crossing his lips. ‘’Preferably on the Al Fresco Dining Terrace, if possible.’’

‘’Of course, _Lord_ _Phantomhive_ ,’’ the waitress smirked amused, winking at Ciel, followed by an embarrassed snicker. ‘’Pardon. Follow me, gentlemen.’’

The so-called _Al Fresco Dining Terrace_ was beyond Sebastian’s expectations. Huge glass windows to keep the english wind away, as well as a ceiling to avoid the incessant english rain. Once again there were small round tables, but this time they were placed in a circle around a huge tree which was planted in the middle of the floor, its branches playing around the wooden ceiling rafters.

They were seated right by the trunk of the tree. Sebastian looked up and admired the many beautiful leaves, while Ciel ordered a cup of black coffee for the poet, as well as a cup of Earl Grey tea for himself.

Ciel admired Sebastian’s fascination with the place, smiling amused by the thought of a twenty-seven-year-old poet acting like a little child on holiday.

‘’I take it that you’ve never visited a restaurant a like this before, Mr. Michaelis?’’ Ciel asked.

‘’Do call me Sebastian,’’ the poet turned to look at the young boy again, his lips pursing into a slight smirk. ‘’And no, I’m afraid I haven’t,’’ he confessed.

Ciel leaned forward, resting his chin on his hands as he looked into Sebastian’s eyes. The boy wanted something; he wanted answers and he wanted information. Sebastian could recognise that look of curiosity and fascination anywhere. He wasn’t complaining, however. The young boy’s interest in him intrigued him to his very core.

_You sound like a pervert, Michaelis._

‘’Again, talented poets like you surely must go to these kind of places to eat all of the time, no?’’ the smirk on the little boy’s lips grew wider. Sebastian knew that Ciel only asked these questions in order for the poet to confirm the truth. The truth which the Phantomhive boy already knew all about. Sebastian could either choose to confront the boy, or simply, play along.

Oh, how fun it would be to let the little boy have his way with this game of his.

‘’Again, you flatter me, _little one_ ,’’ Sebastian said  hesitantly, revealing an amused smirk as the Phantomhive boy tried hard to feign offense by the nickname. ‘’But no,’’ he continued. ‘’Unfortunately, I have reached the point where I must face the truth, and admit that I simply cannot make a living from my writing alone.’’

The look in Sebastian’s eyes turned distant. He lowered his head and let his eyes trail down to stare at the table. The smirk on Ciel’s lips faded away, being replaced by a hint of worry in his eyes. Although the boy hadn’t known the poet for more than a few days, he still saw potential shining through those crimson red eyes. Ciel remembered how emotional, yet astonished he’d been, when he’d read Sebastian’s work. The man was a true genius indeed, talented at what he was passionate about. He undoubtedly deserved to be known for his work.

Ciel managed a weak smile. ‘’You have probably already guessed that I knew about your situation and your financial crisis,” Ciel confessed before continuing, “which is the reason for me inviting you here.’’

Sebastian looked up, Ciel’s heart skipping a beat the moment their eyes met once again.

_What’s gotten into you, Ciel?_

He leaned back into his chair, resting his hands on the table while playing his fingers on the cloth-covered wooden surface. Sebastian couldn’t take his off the little boy’s playful hands; watching how every finger hit the table, one by one, in a pulsating, melodious rhythm. 

Sebastian tensed up as the young boy spoke.

‘’I have a proposal for you, _Sebastian_.’’

The young boy couldn’t help but smirk, although he had to admit he was a bit eager to know whether the poet was going to accept the offer, or turn it down. What Ciel had planned for him could be seen as a humiliating deal indeed, especially for a fine writer such as Sebastian Michaelis himself. However, he also knew that Mr. Michaelis was going to be on his way to hell - financial hell - unless he chose to accept the offer.

_It couldn’t hurt to try._

Sebastian held his breath. ‘’Yes?’’

‘’You see--’’

‘’Here we are, dearies. One cup of Earl Grey for _Lord Phantomhive_ and a pitch black coffee for you, handsome,’’ the waitress interrupted, gently placing the cups in front of the two, now very impatient, young gentlemen. Ciel eyed the waitress with the most deadly expression on his face. He sighed with great disappointment and topped off the sulky scenario with a roll of his eyes, as the waitress finally left their table.

‘’I can’t _believe_ that woman succeeded in keeping her position here with that filthy mouth of hers. Tch! It’s almost as if she’s expecting every single male in here to be straight,’’ the boy groaned in displeasement. ‘’Not _all_ men prefer female company.’’

Sebastian was just about to take a sip of his coffee, but now felt himself tensing up again, as he rested  the edge of the cup on his lower lip, the boy’s last sentence echoing in his mind.

 _Not_ all _men prefer female company_.

‘’Pardon me,’’ Ciel mumbled, taking a deep breath before he continued. ‘’ _You see_ , considering the fact that it’s going downhill for you with both your motivation and your economic status, I would suggest you find a job to maintain  stability in your life while you  search for inspiration, so you can  continue writing again. And in this case, I have an offer for you to consider.’’

Those small, delicate lips pursed into a smirk wider than ever, immediately turning Sebastian’s palms sweaty from the anticipation. The only response he could muster was a questioning turn of his head and a raised eyebrow, as he gazed into those intimidating, cerulean blue eyes, a serious expression now planted on his face.

‘’The Phantomhive Household is in need of a new butler,’’ the boy finally stated. ‘’To be more specific - _I_ am in need of a personal butler. Tanaka does well ... however, he’s getting a bit old, you see.’’

The poor poet couldn’t do anything but stare at the young Phantomhive boy. He tried to imagine the scenarios. If he accepted Ciel’s offer about becoming his very own _personal butler_ , then what would he have to do? Feed him breakfast? Make sure he got his afternoon tea on time? Follow him everywhere, take care of him, dress him, _undress him_ and last but not least . . . _bathe him_?

‘’. . . Mr. Michaelis?’’

_Don’t get distracted now, Sebastian._

Sebastian swallowed, carefully placing his cup on his plate in front of him, caressing the edge of the fine tea set with the tip of his thumb … but then again, if he _didn’t_ accept the boy’s offer, then what would be left of him? What would be left of his future?

"Do you need further time to consider my offer, Sebastian?" Ciel questioned with a sly smile.

_Oh, to hell with this._

‘’I accept your offer, Lord Phantomhive.''

 

_He remembered it just as clearly as if it had happened the day before._

_But no, Sebastian Michaelis had accepted Ciel’s offer no sooner than what was now a few months ago; becoming Ciel’s very own butler, with the acceptance of his parents. Vincent Phantomhive knew all about Sebastian’s work as well, being absolutely sure he would excel at every task in the progress of becoming his son’s butler._

_And so he did._

 

Ciel plopped down on his black piano bench, as he pulled out the little note from his pocket. He leaned forward  and rested his elbows on the fallboard of his piano forte. He carefully unfolded the small piece of paper, a warm smile blossoming on his face as he read the note;

‘’ _This spirit of perverseness, I say, came to my final overthrow. It was this unfathomable longing of the soul to vex itself - to offer violence to its own nature - to do wrong for the wrong's sake only - that urged me to continue and finally to consummate the injury I had inflicted upon the unoffending brute.’’_

‘’The Black Cat by Edgar Allan Poe,’’ a dark, croaky voice echoed through the drawing room, sending a cold shiver down Ciel’s spine, making his smile disappear in a heartbeat.


	3. That Butler, Inspiring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ''Why choose such a misleading word, to describe something as simple as wanting to do the wrong thing, because it is wrong? Perverseness was a word that led Ciel’s mind to think about something a lot more filthy, something a little boy his age shouldn’t ponder about when reading a simple word.''

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so sorry for being so late out with the newest chapter - a lot happened and I haven't had time to write. But it's here, it's out and it's queer. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Ciel didn’t move. His body simply just wouldn’t obey his orders. Instead he stared into the shining fallboard of his black piano, as he gripped the edges of the bench so tightly, that his knuckles turned white.

He knew that voice. It had been a long time since he’d last heard it, but there was no doubt; he could recognise that croaky voice anywhere.

‘’I wonder,’’ the voice continued. ‘’If the butler isn’t here, is the young Earl nothing but an innocent child who can’t do anything?’’

Stop it. _Stop it_ !

Why couldn’t he stop shaking? What was so frightening and shocking about this, that he couldn’t act all tall and proud - like he used to? It was nothing. There was nothing to be scared of. At least, there shouldn’t be. But this aura, this atmosphere of danger that filled the air … it made him sick to his very core.

‘’Undertaker,’’ Ciel whispered. ‘’You have no business here.’’

Ciel remembered now. The Undertaker had worked as an informant for the Phantomhive House for as long as he could remember by now. He had been told by Ciel’s father that it was best to disguise himself as a funeral director in the meanwhile. And he’d obeyed Vincent’s orders without hesitation. However, he had with time revealed another side of himself. A side that the House of Phantomhive, and not to forget the Queen, didn’t quite trust. His father had refused to tell him the exact reason, but all Ciel knew was that the Undertaker had more secrets, more truths to avoid than what was acceptable for a noble family such as the Phantomhives.  

‘’Ah, but I believe I do, _little Earl_ ,’’ the Undertaker said.

Ciel finally turned around on the piano bench, only to find himself staring right into the tall, silver-haired man’s piercing, chartreuse green eyes. The Phantomhive boy held his breath. The Undertaker was dressed in a slick, black suit; his long bangs pushed back, revealing a flawlessly handsome face, with defined cheekbones and deathly pale skin. That scar, however . . .

‘’I was summoned here by your father,’’ he continued, raising Ciel’s chin with the tip of his index finger, his long black nail digging into Ciel’s skin. ‘’Or is it too hard, for a little boy like you, to believe that a proud man like your father would talk to someone like me once again?’’

The Undertaker grabbed the Phantomhive boy harshly by his cheeks, forcing Ciel to raise himself from the piano bench. The little boy inhaled slowly and forced himself to ignore all negative thoughts. He remembered how the Undertaker had been a close friend of his father, and that this invitation might’ve meant that the Earl of Phantomhive had forgiven the Undertaker for his stupidity, after all that had happened between them. And with that, he exhaled - a friend of his father was a friend of his as well. The Undertaker wasn’t there to harm him.

And if he _was_ , Ciel wouldn’t hesitate to find out his true intentions.

‘’Not at all,’’ Ciel finally replied with a bit more confidence in his voice, as he leaned in real close to whisper into the Undertaker’s ear. ‘’However, if you happen to show me any signs of treachery once more during your stay  - I will have you out of here within seconds.’’

The Undertaker’s sharp black nails dug into Ciel’s skin under his chin, scratching him slightly as he wrapped his fingers around Ciel’s slender neck. His intense green eyes gazed into Ciel’s cerulean blue with a look that screamed pure hell. The Undertaker’s lips pursed into a wicked smile which sent shivers down Ciel’s spine. Following that came a laugh more vexatious than anything he’d ever heard.

‘’My dear, _dear_ little Earl,’’ the Undertaker said with that wicked, wide grin planted on his face. ‘’I know of your games, I know them all - but do not underestimate me so. I am not one to play with; I will merely turn your sweet little games into nightmares.’’

‘’Oh?’’ Ciel smirked. ‘’And yet ... I don’t recall losing last time - _when my father had you dismissed._ ’’

Those slender, yet strong fingers now tightened around Ciel’s throat, pushing him backwards as the Undertaker rested his other hand on the fallboard behind the little boy, hovering over him while digging his nails even further into Ciel’s skin. He watched the young Earl fight for air, as Ciel grabbed the Undertaker’s arm, trying to push him away.

‘’Do not forget that _you_ were the one who --’’

It wasn’t until the lock on the door to the drawing room clicked open that the madman finally let go of the young boy.  

‘’Ciel -- ’’ Sebastian rushed into the room, pushing the Undertaker away and immediately sitting down on the piano bench, wrapping his arm around the coughing boy, as he instructed him to take deep breaths.

As soon as the butler had made sure the young master was unharmed, he raised himself and faced the Undertaker. Without hesitating for a single second, he tightly grabbed the madman’s collar and pushed him backwards until he had him forcefully pinned against the wall.

‘’Listen carefully now, _Undertaker_ ,’’ Sebastian said with a stern voice. ‘’Earl Vincent Phantomhive did not invite you to this Manor to harass his very own _son_. Now, if you’d be so kind--’’

A loud cough interrupted him.

‘’That would be all, Mr. Michaelis,’’ Vincent Phantomhive’s voice echoed in the drawing room as he appeared in the doorway. ‘’Thank you.’’

The little boy looked up and met his father’s eyes. A look of disappointment washed over Ciel. He couldn’t make out a reason to why his father had invited someone like the Undertaker to the Phantomhive Manor once more. He could see the sorrow in his father’s deep brown eyes, which pained him to the very core of his soul. Why hadn’t his father told him the reason for dismissing the Undertaker? What had the madman done? And how come it had hurt his father so much? He so desperately wanted to understand what was going on. But of course, ‘ _he was only just a boy_ ’.

‘’Undertaker, if you’d be so kind and follow me, please,’’ Vincent said, eyeing the retired informant.

Undertaker gently pushed the butler away, lightly brushing off his black suit as he gazed at the young Phantomhive boy. There was no sign of remorse; only hatred was left in his eyes. As he approached the Earl, he hesitated for a second. He raised his arm and rested a hand on Vincent’s cheek, leaning in as he whispered something into his ear. Ciel saw no change of expression on his father’s face, yet something told him it wasn’t a matter he could be carefree about.

And with that, the Undertaker left the room.

‘’As for _you_ , Mr. Michaelis,’’ Vincent said with a serious tone, ‘’if I ever see you harass my guests like that again, then there _will_ be consequences.’’

Sebastian sighed greatly as the doors to the drawing room closed behind Vincent. His crimson red eyes caught Ciel who looked absolutely devastated, and not to mention confused, as the little boy did nothing but stare at the big mahogany doors his father had just closed. Sebastian was about to take a step forward until Ciel’s whisper filled the room.

‘’You-- You called me Ciel.’’

Sebastian’s heart skipped a beat.

_Did he?_

He had been the Phantomhive boy’s butler for a year now, and not once had he called Ciel by his first name. It had always been Young Master, My Lord, or lately . . . _little one._ Now, however, he’d apparently forgotten all about the formalities in the very moment he’d seen the Undertaker’s hands around his young master’s neck, which left him in awe.

‘’I did, didn’t I?’’ Sebastian let out a nervous chuckle. ‘’Pardon me, My Lord, I can assure you it will never happen again.’’

Ciel turned around on the piano bench, facing the black piano forte once more, as his slender fingers hooked underneath the edge of the fallboard and raised the shiny black lid. His pale hand rested itself on the snow white keys of the piano; and just as Sebastian approached the little boy, curious to why Ciel hadn’t accepted his apology just yet, he turned his head slightly and revealed a slight blush upon his pale cheeks.

‘’I . . . I don’t mind,’’ Ciel mumbled with a grumpy yet bashful look on his face.

The Butler couldn’t do anything but stand in silence and stare at the boy.

 _My my_ , the proud Phantomhive boy didn’t mind being called his first name by his very own personal butler. Now, _that’s_ something he couldn’t quite ignore _._

Never had one of the Phantomhives been addressed by anything but their titles, as well as their surnames. Never had they been addressed by something as disrespectful as their _first name._ Naturally, they wouldn’t - they were the Watchdogs of the Queen, after all.

And now … The young son of the Earl of Phantomhive himself admitted to _not minding_ being addressed by his first name - by his very own _butler_.

‘’Excuse me, Young Master,’’ Sebastian’s lips pursed into a devilish smirk. ‘’You don’t mind _what_?’’

‘’You very well know what I meant, _Sebastian_ , so don’t you even _dare_ taunt me now,’’ Ciel said with a stern voice.

Sebastian let out an amused chuckle. He leaned down and rested his hand on Ciel’s, guiding it away from the keys as he closed the fallboard gently. The touch of Sebastian’s cold hand made the boy shiver in surprise, and while he turned his head to look at the butler, he immediately met his crimson red eyes.

Sebastian’s hand remained on top of Ciel’s.

‘’Forget about the lesson today,’’ Sebastian smiled. ‘’We’re going out. It’s time we discuss the meaning behind that quote.’’

 

***

 

Raindrops rapidly hit the tightened black fabric on the wide umbrella, which protected Mr. Michaelis and his young master from getting all soaked by the English rain. The autumn leaves danced around beneath their feet, carried by the cold wind which had managed to drag the inviting scent of coffee with it, all the way from the little café around the corner. The familiar scent tickled Sebastian’s senses and washed over him like a wave of tranquility.

Ciel revealed a faint blush upon his cheeks, as Sebastian grabbed the little boy’s hand when they crossed St. James’s Square, approaching the small beige building right in the corner of the square.

Sebastian’s warm hand clutching around his own made Ciel’s heart flutter with joy, although he made sure not to reveal a single trace of happiness on his face - apart from those treacherous blushing red cheeks, which he couldn't hide.

 _Tch, he’s your butler. He just wants to make sure you cross the road safely._ _Nothing more._

Ciel gazed up at his butler, Sebastian’s crimson eyes sparkling with euphoria as they stepped inside The London Library.

The scent of coffee was now replaced with the incomparable scent of ancient leather-bounds, old paper, history and _art_ . Sebastian Michaelis, the now retired poet, had finally returned to his home of inspiration and pure solace. The memories filled his mind with thousands of imageries, scents and moods from different days, different seasons and different stages in his life. He had come to the library more often than he could count - when he was sad, when he was angry, or simply just when he needed some peace and quiet to do nothing but _write_.

The library had been his escape. And now, he was showing this intimate side of himself to a young boy like Ciel Phantomhive, who’d happened to become his young master; a sixteen year old _master_ who shouldn’t have any impact on his personal life; and yet, what was he doing right now?

 _Oh shut up, you’re here to teach the boy about a quote from a short story._ _Nothing less._

The butler rested his black trenchcoat on the back of his chair, and put down a dark leather-bound book which was covered with red details and silver letters titled; _The Complete Tales and Poems of Edgar Allan Poe._

Sebastian’s eyes finally met Ciel’s. ‘’Did you bring the quote with you, My Lord?’’

Ciel nodded, taking out the little piece of paper on which Sebastian had written the quote with calligraphy ink. His handwriting was beautiful, confident and sleek - much like himself. The little boy rested the note beside the gothic leather-bound on the table, and seated himself next to his butler. He smiled a faint smile at Sebastian as he met his eyes once more.   
  
‘’Very well,’’ Sebastian said. ‘’Now, let’s look at the quote, shall we? As I recall, it was on page 532 to 533 ... Ah, here we are. Why don’t you read it aloud, my Lord?’’

Ciel swallowed.

He could feel his palms starting to sweat as Sebastian placed the book in his hands. Ciel’s eyes hastily tried to find the quote among thousands of tiny letters. It wasn’t until his eyes caught a glimpse of the word PERVERSENESS in capital letters, that the young boy finally rested the book on the table once more, gently keeping the pages spread with his fingertips.

 _It’s your_ butler _as well as your_ professor _, now put yourself together._

Ciel took a deep breath and read aloud.

‘’ _This spirit of_ perverseness _, I say, came to my final overthrow_ ,’’ he hesitated, looking up as he met Sebastian’s eyes, and the butler nodded, reassuring the young boy that he was doing just fine.

He continued. ‘’ _It was this unfathomable longing of the soul to vex itself - to offer violence to its own nature - to do wrong for the wrong's sake only_ ,’’ he swallowed; his heartbeat was getting more rapid with every word that escaped his lips, but _why_?

‘’... _that urged me to continue and finally to consummate the injury I had inflicted upon the unoffending brute._ ’’

Ciel exhaled and raised his head. Sebastian’s lips had pursed into the most devilishly amused smirk, with his eyebrow cocked and his arms crossed over his chest. ‘’Tell me, young master,’’ he mused, while leaning forward, looking straight into Ciel’s eyes. ‘’How come you get so uneasy when you read this aloud in front of me?’’

Hastily did the little Phantomhive try to find a proper response to his butler’s question, as it should be simple enough to answer. However, that was certainly easier said than done.

The young boy didn’t feel uneasy. Nervous, perhaps, but not uneasy. He was perfectly comfortable around his butler; perhaps a little _too_ comfortable. He felt safe and protected whenever Sebastian was by his side. And nothing could ever tear them apart.

However, this quote, that choice of words, which the genius that was Edgar Allan Poe had chosen to include in this story, had him intrigued to the very depths of his juvenile soul. _The spirit of perverseness_ . Why choose such a misleading word, to describe something as simple as wanting to do the wrong thing, _because_ it is wrong? Perverseness was a word that led Ciel’s mind to think about something a lot more filthy, something a little boy his age shouldn’t ponder about when reading a simple word.

His eyes slowly trailed up to look at his butler’s lips. Lusciously soft lips which were hiding a faint smirk that grew wider with amusement each second. Their eyes met once more, and Ciel felt himself falling into a daze of the sweetest allure. Those crimson red eyes seduced the little boy to feel the need to succumb to the man in front of him, without even hesitating for a single second.   _He wanted to indulge in the butler’s little game of temptation._

And with those thoughts dancing around in the back of his mind, it was hard to focus on reading them aloud to his butler. They were tingling and teasing to shatter the remains of the formalities that were left from his duty as the son of an Earl.

All there was left to do was to decide whether he was going to tell Sebastian the truth and be honest about his .. _informal_ thoughts and feelings; or if he should use a simple excuse, instead . . .

‘’I am _not_ ,’’ Ciel finally answered with a stern voice, followed by a great sigh. ‘’I am simply just a bit distraught by the thought of the Undertaker’s return. ’’

Ciel’s cerulean eyes trailed down the printed words on the dusty paper, the separate letters in ink fusing together into one big void of black. He stared into nothingness, while his lissom fingers gently played their way over the leathery surface of the book, closing it gently. The mind of a young boy such as Ciel himself wasn’t supposed to be filled with so many different thoughts at once.

And yet, several images flared before his eyes.

The Undertaker’s intimidating, chartreuse green eyes that had stared into his own, while his bony, deathly pale fingers had wrapped themselves around Ciel’s slender neck; however, the sound of Sebastian’s deep voice echoed through his mind, obliterating all possible traces of distress that was left in him. How he’d yelled _Ciel_ as he’d rushed into the room, and how there’d been a sudden tint of remorse in those intense, crimson red eyes. He knew Sebastian well enough to know that he’d felt guilty about not keeping a better eye on him. Sebastian was set on protecting his young master - even though he usually concealed it with a smirk on his lips.

‘’Young master,’’ Sebastian said softly. ‘’If you don’t mind my asking, why do you believe the Undertaker resents you so much?’’

The look in Sebastian’s eyes made it clear - he seemed to know the answer to that very question already. A hidden smirk appeared on the corner of those devilish lips as the butler moved one hand to rest beside Ciel’s on the table, tapping his fingers lightly on the wooden surface.

The young boy swallowed. He did everything he could to try and remember images from his past. He was no older than six when the Earl of Phantomhive had decided to dismiss the Undertaker. It had come like a shock to Ciel. He remembered how they would have afternoon tea together in the lounge, and how the Undertaker would make a sassy remark, laughing greatly as his father had managed to make a witty retort in return. The Undertaker had always been there for his father - helped him, given him advice. The two of them had been inseparable.

Then _why_ was he dismissed? And why did the Undertaker act as if _he_ was the one to blame?

_‘’Do not forget that you were the one who --’’ - who what?_

Ciel’s thoughts were interrupted by the sudden touch of Sebastian’s hands resting lightly on top of his own. He’d caught himself breathing heavily from the tiring thoughts; nevertheless had the touch of Sebastian’s hands made him feel at peace. His cheeks flourished a bright red while those pearly whites bit into his lower lip, his eyes fixating on Sebastian’s slender, pale hands.

‘’My Lord,’’ Sebastian said, his voice delicate and deep. ‘’To dwell on matters such as the return of the Undertaker is not yours to endure. His actions, and the way he treated you was, without question, disgraceful, and not to mention outrageous; however, I am certain your father will explain everything to you as soon as he gets the chance. Therefore, in this moment, I am afraid there is no more left to do than wait.’’

Just as the young Phantomhive’s eyes trailed down to look at his feet, the butler gently raised the boy’s chin with the tip of his finger. Cerulean met crimson in a brief moment of tranquility, as the two of them refused to move. Time seemed to stand still, and the deserted reading room seemed to disappear around them. All he could hear was his own breathing becoming more rapid with every second that passed; and before he knew it, he’d caught himself moving closer to his butler, closing the gap between their thighs.

‘’Now,’’ Sebastian almost whispered. ‘’How about you tell me the true meaning behind that quote?’’

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so sorry for being so late out with the newest chapter - a lot happened and I haven't had time to write. But it's here, it's out and it's queer. 
> 
> Enjoy!


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